single mom

On crying (and why doing it in the bathtub is best)

My mother has long preached that there’s no use in crying about it.

It, of course, could be anything: a broken heart, a broken nail, a broken painting (damn you, 3M Hooks!), a broken bone. But y’know what? I disagree.

(Go ahead, feign surprise.)

Anybody who knows me knows I am a crier. Not in a gloomy, walk around crying and sniveling all day crying way because that would be dreadful, but in an emotionally excitable, feeling all the feels kind of way.

And believe me: I feel all the feels.

I cry when I’m happy. I cry when I’m sad. I cry when I am sick, or hurt, or angry and when I’m afraid. Sometimes, I’m so full of pride and love for my little historian that it overflows in the form of tears. I laugh until I cry. I cry until I laugh.

My mother also tells me it’s “not good” to cry in front of F and, again, I disagree. Emotions are a healthy part of life, and while they may be big and scary sometimes, they are normal. If I’m never going to show him that I am sad, or afraid or vulnerable, I better not show him when I am happy, or excited or confident because life isn’t one-sided. So I cry in front of him sometimes.

But sometimes when I’m crying for reasons that are too big for him to understand I turn on Netflix, hand him a snack and head to my bathroom to draw a bath. And then, while sitting in the tub, I let it all out. Why? you may ask. Simple.

I can just wash my face and get back to being awesome.

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